


All By Himself

by twistedGodcomplex



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Michael and Jeremy have feelings for each other but it's not super relevant and they aren't dating, Panic Attacks, Self-Indulgent, Song: Michael in the Bathroom, Suicidal Jeremy, Suicidal Michael, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Takes place before during and after Michael in the Bathroom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-19 00:15:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12399174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedGodcomplex/pseuds/twistedGodcomplex
Summary: Michael in the bathroom at a party...





	1. Chapter 1

_Listen to me, Jeremy_

"He went crazy trying to get it out!"

Michael's heart sank a little as Jeremy scoffed at him. "Then I've got nothing to worry about. Why would I want that?"

Jeremy made a move for the door, but he stood in the brunette's way.

_Come on, Jer..._

Jeremy glared at him. "Move it."

"Or you'll what?" He heard himself ask, the spite in his voice to his best friend of 12 years upsetting him slightly.

_God, why won't you just listen to me..._

Michael shrank back as Jeremy spat, "Get out of my way.  _ **Loser.**_ "

Jeremy pushed him out of the way and slammed the door. Michael leaned against the wall, looking up and trying desperately not to cry. It's no use, he could feel his throat starting to close and his hands beginning to shake. He slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, and pulled his knees up to his chest. He could hear Jenna Rolan's voice just outside the door, but it seemed far away. She knocked.

"Hello! Other people have to pee!"

He put on his best falsetto and called back "I'm on my period!"

There's a pause. 

_Maybe she didn't believe me, shit._

"Take your time, honey." The knocking stopped, for a moment. 

Michael buried his head in his hands and felt a shudder go through him. He was alone.

_All alone..._

_Would anyone even care if I died? I doubt it._

_Even Jeremy probably wouldn't even care..._

_How long can I even stay in here?_

He sighed a little.

_I just don't want to see other people... Well... Unless it's Jeremy, but... That won't happen..._

_Maybe it IS my fault... Maybe Jeremy's SQUIP is just right, maybe it's better if he never sees me again, maybe I'm the problem... I'm what's kept Jeremy from being cool, I'm why he was unhappy for so long..._

He heard some girls talking outside, wondering how much longer he'd be. One knocked, asking if he was alright. Michael resisted the urge to shout back at her, but only just barely.

_No, you can't come in!_

_My friendship with Jeremy is over... It's just... Done... God..._

He stared down at the grout on the floor and traced one of the lines with his finger sadly.

_Nobody even knows me, I'm just alone, all alone..._

He started to shake more, and he hugged his legs closer to himself.

_He's probably having more fun without me anyway, he'll make new friends, cooler friends. He doesn't need me..._

Just outside the door a very drunk girl loudly sang, no, shouted, the lyrics to a Whitney Houston song. Michael hummed along, a rebellious tear sliding down his face.

"I WANNA DANCE WITH SOMEBODY!!"/ _I wanna dance with somebody..._

_If Jeremy were here we'd probably laugh at her... But no... I'm just alone... Alone alone alone..._

Michael tried to stand, but felt a rush of dizziness. 

_Damnit, why did I drink? Now I can't even go home..._

He choked back a sob, the full force of his situation hitting him at once.

_Fuck... Fuck fuck fuck... Damnit, stop crying, Mell..._

It was useless, the tears came and wouldn't stop flowing no matter how hard he tried.

_Maybe I could blame it on weed? No, who would believe that..._

The knocking on the other side of the door got louder, the girls were getting extremely impatient. Michael started to panic, the loud banging combined with being left by his only support was wreaking havoc on his psyche.

_Why did he have to leave me... Why... Fuck, Jer, why..._

_I shouldn't have come tonight at all, I'm such an idiot..._

The knocking turned to clanging turned to banging, and Michael was freaking out. He pulled his glasses off his face, set them on the counter, and turned on the sink. He splashed water in his face in a hopeful attempt to steady himself, but as he put his glasses back on and reached for the door the knocking suddenly stopped.

_Oh... They don't care either..._

His eyes flickered to the mirror, to the reflection staring back it him.

_Pathetic... Look at you, getting so torn up over one person... Even if it is Jeremy... Sweet, perfect, amazing Jeremy... You don't deserve him anyway. You never could._

Michael punched the mirror, hard, and it cracked. He hit it again, a few shards fell and one cut him near the knuckle of his middle finger. He didn't notice, and hit it again. And again. And again, until he couldn't see his disgusting face in the broken mirror anymore. Some larger pieces of glass fell, and his hand was bleeding and would likely bruise.

_This is a heinous night._

He collapsed backwards onto the floor with his legs to his chest again, this time surrounded by the shards of glass that had scattered across the floor. 

_I wish I stayed at home... I wish I fucking offed myself instead... I wish I was never fucking born..._

He sobbed, clutching his knees tightly. His hand bled, he ignored it.

_GOD I'M SUCH A LOSER..._

Through bleary eyes he spotted the shine of one of the larger pieces of glass on the floor. He picked it up and examined it, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his free hand. 

_Wish I offed myself instead..._

Michael stood, clutching the shard in his right hand so hard that it pierced the skin. He didn't care. He rolled up the sleeve on his left arm, and looked up at the broken mirror once more. He caught a glimpse of the upper half of his face in a small mostly unbroken area of the mirror. He stared into his own eyes and dragged the jagged piece reflective glass across his arm. He hadn't done this in years... Jeremy was the one who convinced him to quit the first time, but that didn't matter anymore. He repeated the action a few times, and as his vision blurred he realized he hadn't left a note, nothing to explain himself. He may have liked being a little mysterious at school or around his peers, but... He should've left something.

_Shit._

He fumbled for his phone, but his hands were shaking far too much to type. He hit "1" on his speed dial.

"Hey, this is Jeremy! Sorry I didn't pick up, I'm probably playing video games with Michael, haha! (Yo, Jer, are you done? Apocalypse of the Damned isn't gonna wait for you!) Yeah, sorry, hold on. So, yeah! Leave a message, I'll call you back!"

The familiarity of Jeremy's voicemail was off putting, Michael had heard it so many times since they had recorded it in Michael's basement so long ago. The boys had just got their copy of Apocalypse of the Damned, and they were so excited to start level 1 together... It took a while for them to get the hang of the game, they always died, but they died together. It was never really Game Over, because they had each other...

Michael suddenly caught himself at 0:24 seconds of a silent voicemail, and hung up. He'd have to try again, Jeremy would likely just delete it after nearly 30 seconds of silence. He called back, and to no surprise he got voicemail again. The room was starting to spin, he was so dizzy... The message beeped. His breathing was shallow, but he did his best to be coherent.

"H-hey, Jer, it's Mi-michael. I, uh... I'm calling you bec-cause by the time you li-listen to this, I'll be... I'll be de-dead." The room was spinning, and although Michael tried to make it to the sink or the toilet or somewhere other than the floor as soon as he took a step he crumpled. He threw up all over himself.

_Gross... But, I guess it doesn't matter..._

Michael was on the floor, surrounded by blood, vomit, and shards of the broken mirror, his phone sitting on the floor about a foot away from his face.

"Uh, h-haha, yeah... I'm r-really so-orry... I want you t-to know that I don't bla-ame you, or anyth-thing... You sh-shouldn't blame yourself... This has no-nothing to do with you-u..." 

_I know I'm lying, but... There's no need to make him feel bad... Not that he'd feel bad anyway, but... Why risk it..._

"I'm so s-sorry, Jer. I... I know you'll get over me qu-quickly, tho-ough..." He cringed a little at the bitterness in his voice, as the spinning room began to go black.

"I... I wan-nt... I want y-you to kn-now... know that I... I've alwa-ays... always lov-"

The room went dark.

Player 1: Game Over

Player 2: Continue? ==> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You request, I deliver...

 Jeremy sat on the edge of Michael’s bed, staring down at his phone. He played the message again.

"H-hey, Jer, it's Mi-michael. I, uh... I'm calling you bec-cause by the time you li-listen to this, I'll be... I'll be de-dead.” The sound of something hitting the ground and Michael throwing up. "Uh, h-haha, yeah... I'm r-really so-orry... I want you t-to know that I don't bla-ame you, or anyththing… You sh-shouldn't blame yourself... This has no-nothing to do with you-u… I'm so s-sorry, Jer. I... I know you'll get over me qu-quickly, tho-ough… I... I wan-nt... I want y-you to kn-now... know that I... I've alwa-ays... always lov-”

Silence. Nearly four minutes of it, before Jeremy could hear himself knocking on the door of the bathroom.

“Michael? Are you still in here?”

The sound of the bathroom door breaking open.

“MICHAEL! Oh fuck, oh shit, Michael, please be alive.”

Jeremy remembered this part. He was sitting, kneeling next to his former best friend, who was lying lifeless on the bathroom floor. Then…

“Oh. Em. Gee.” Jenna Rolan, fuck, does this girl have any class at all?

“Jenna, don’t just stand there, call an ambulance or something!”

That was when he noticed Michael’s phone, still recording the audio of the room, with Jeremy’s name on the caller ID. The message ends there, he stopped the call.

The rest of the night was a blur, the paramedics wrapped a stunned Jeremy in a blanket and one sympathetically touched his shoulder as she told him that Michael is…  

_Fuck, Michael is… Michael is…_

Jeremy couldn’t even bring himself to think the words, let alone say them. A tear fell onto the screen of his phone, he used Michael’s red sweater sleeve to wipe it away and then dry his eyes.

_He’s gone… My best friend, and the last thing I said to him was…_

_“Get out of my way._ **_Loser._** **** _”_

“Y̶̦͊o̵͚͚͔̤̗͝ų̸̺̣̂̈͊'̸̧̢̹̰̪̚r̷̬͓̄̾͂e̸̯̣͒ ̶̱̎͠a̸̯̖̙̜͂͊́͗n̶̯͚̝͌̋͘ ̷̬̬̙͗͘i̸̲̼̖̊̈́̏̂̑͜ḑ̵̲̗̈́̅͛͋͜ͅi̷̛̙͂͒̍́o̷̤͒̊t̵͍͙̰͉̟̍̚.̵̖͂͐͜͠ ̸̩͉̌͜͝T̴̺̝̊̊̿̃h̵̡̖̤͚̳̓̇̋͆̅i̴͖͕̖͗͌̑ͅş̴̝̂̈́̓͑̒ ̶̥͍͐̈́͗̈́i̸̬͐̎̆͝ṣ̶̘͆̌̓̈ ̶̞͈̲͙͔̌͒́͠a̵͇̺͇̥͗͊̌l̶̘̊͆͗͆l̴̠̑̀̿̚͘ ̷͍̈́̒y̵͔͖̳̔͊͜ȍ̸̙͈̣̗̠́̊ǘ̵̝̖͎̝̾͊̍͝r̷͔̯̻̰̱̆͆̄͘ ̶̯͚̰͝f̵͖̈̀͂̊̚a̴̰̒̽̿͆ǘ̸̼͇̙̦̝̂l̶͔̈̌͝t̴̰.̶͓̪͒͂͒̆̕͜ͅ”

(You're an idiot. This is all your fault.)

_Shut up. This isn’t my fault, it’s yours._

“Ǐ̵͍͓̙̱̋ ̶̼̰̳̞͈̉d̷̥͖͕͑̑͂͝ȋ̶͓̠̓d̵̺̹͌́͠n̸̗̩̝͇͗̆̌'̸̨̦̥̔̐̆̉t̵͙̾̃̉͘ ̷̼̍̋͒͊e̷̺̠̩̔̕ṿ̸̧̣̑e̶͕̮͐n̴̯̂ ̴̬̦͌͒̃t̷̮̟̭̐͊̓͠è̴͖͗͋̒͘ͅl̷̡͙̟͕̏̓ͅl̶̢̰͉͓̥̏͊͘ ̵̡̛̝̃̋y̸͕̖͚̘̰̾̓͆͌̈́o̴̥̽ǘ̶̫͙͚̫̩̇̂ ̸̗̘̉t̸̞̍͊o̴͕̟͜͝ ̴̳͚͂s̵̖̪͘a̶͎͋͠y̴̞͉̞̜͗̒͛̎̈ ̴̡͈̲̯̜͂̅t̵̝̅h̵̢̛̫͇̯̉̿ä̴̢̭̗͔͕́̅̚ṭ̴͕͉͌̃̽͗̐.̴̙͙͈̙͎̋̌̊̂ ̵̤͌͛̾̐Ţ̷͓͍̇̇̉͑h̸͚̹͎̖͒̎̈͌ą̵̜̏͗̈́̾͛t̶̨̫͔̳͂̄̀ ̷̗̗̠̦̽̃͜w̸̼̫̑̚ǎ̸̡̙̜͝ṣ̸̱̗̰͚̎̆́͠ ̴̼͔̘̳͂͛̽̇a̸̱̯͍̼͑̈͋͛ľ̴̛̯̕l̴̝͖̓ ̶͖͇̝̎͒͌̓͜͠y̵̭̤̮̤̗͂͑̚̚ơ̶̫͗̍͊͝u̸̹͌̊̔,̴̼͑̌͗̚ ̸̡̩͒͂͒J̵̡̡̛͔͕̋̐̐͝e̶̢̛̥͍̅̽͑r̴̨̗̖̹̙̃ȩ̸̛͉̖͖̲̊̈́m̷̮̹̂̊̊y̷̻͇̌̏̒͋.̶̠͈̾̃̀̓̆ ̴̲̎̀ ̸͉̲̺̹̏͗ ̶̟̾͂͋M̶̯͙͕̗͈̃̓i̴̢̨̛͆͛̌c̶̨̡̨̛̪̙h̸̟̱̙̼̐͒̿̑̐a̸̪͈̾̋e̶̹͑͛͝l̵͙̯͎̺͒̍ ̶̢̑̚i̷̹̮̺͌̒͜͝s̴̞̦͈͒͘ ̶̱̝̩̰̐d̶͉̉͝e̴̺̱̼͒̏͂ä̵̡͓̺̆̍d̶̦̺̜̣̪͑̂̐ ̶̥͆͂̽b̶̡̈́̎ẻ̴̟̜̿̃c̵̖͔͌͒͜a̶̝̹̣̘͗̉̑̐u̶̪̿̆̽s̸̹̣̱̟̩͛͊̂ē̶̡̃̑̈́̚ ̴͎̈́͒́͋o̴͖͕̘͑͌̕f̵̪̬̒̿̕͝ ̸͎̫̉̋̏͊ẙ̷̼͇̺͙͂̅̒o̶̰͔̣͔̐̾u̶̫͂͂́̅͋.̶̝̜̄̔̕”

(I didn't even tell you to say that. That was all you, Jeremy. Michael is dead because of you.)

_I… Fuck you._

“Ỳ̴̢̦̦̂͑̍͜o̶̖̮̠̲̊̇̏͘͠u̵͕͙ ̶̲͎̣̯̈́͊̋͝͝n̸͉͂̐͛͌̾ͅë̶̱͔͚́̐̊ë̵̡̩̖́d̸̢̨̖͈̙̈́͒̚ ̸̢̲̰̱́̓͜͠m̵̛͉̈̾͛̌e̷̫̘̝̽͆̉ͅ.̵̺̿̿͠”

(You need me.)

_No, I don’t._

He remembered something from that night… What was it? Rich was acting weird… Something about Mountain Dew Red.

_Does Mountain Dew Red shut you off?_

The SQUIP was silent for the first time in a while.

_I’ll take that as a yes._

He reached under Michael’s bed, there was always some Mountain Dew under there. He felt around until his hand touched a bottle. He pulled it out. Crystal Pepsi, damn. He tossed it aside and went back to searching. He hit another bottle. Bingo. He opened the bottle and got shocked.

“Y̷̗͐̋͊͊̚o̸̢͓̐͊̏ü̸̱̅ ̷͖̪̦̆̔̆̓̉͜d̵͔̆̂ȯ̴͇̏̓͛n̴̛͓'̷̭̲̼̾̈́ͅt̴̪͙͍͍͇͑̓̂́̕ ̷̨̻̫̭̑̕w̸͉̩̠̲̿a̸̬͋̈́̍ǹ̶̲̐̃ṫ̸͇̓ ̴̡̛͙͖̱̣͐ť̵͇͜͠ǒ̵̞̌̊̂ ̷̏̈́ͅd̵̫̾̔͑́o̶̲͘̕ ̵̡̡͓͙̬̉̈̆̇t̴̟͘h̷̻͈͌̐̍ạ̶͂͗͒̾ţ̷̤̻̳͗̌̎̈́̊͜,̸̰̽̈́ ̸̡̺̼́̊̌J̶̰̯̲̩̜̅̀̓́e̷̥̺̘̓͜r̵̗͎̮̍͝e̴͖̿̏m̸͇͈̘̎̇̾͐ÿ̸̭̹.̷̼̙̲͙͓̀͌”

(You don't want to do that, Jeremy.)

_Yes, I do. Fuck off._

He took a long drink of it. The SQUIP screamed mechanically, it made his head hurt. But, after a few moments, everything was quiet.

_Finally…_

He looked down at his phone and pressed play on the message again.

_This really is my fault… Michael’s dead because of me… Because of me…_

“I want you t-to know that I don't bla-ame you, or anyththing… You sh-shouldn't blame yourself... This has no-nothing to do with you-u..."

_I don’t believe that…_

“I... I know you'll get over me qu-quickly, tho-ough..."

_How…? How could I ever… I can’t believe I fucked up so horribly… My best friend thought that I didn’t care about him, and now… Now he’s… He’s dead…_

Jeremy scrolled through it until he got to the part he wanted to hear again. 51 seconds in.

"I... I wan-nt... I want y-you to kn-now... know that I... I've alwa-ays... always lov-"

_“I want you to know that I’ve always lov-”... Always… Loved…? Me…?_

It was too much to hope for, he’d always had feelings for Michael but he never thought… No… And definitely not his dying words…

Jeremy stood and left Michael’s room, and his house, and just started walking. He didn’t know where he was going and he didn’t care. He just walked.

_Stupid._

_Terrible._

_He’s dead because of you._

_You’re the worst friend ever._

_You’re the fucking worst._

_How could you pick Christine, pick the SQUIP over Michael?_

_You’re so stupid._

_Why didn’t you just go back for him?_

The reality of what he had done that night came rushing to him.

\--Just after he left the bathroom, he felt awful, he wanted to go back in… But he didn’t. The SQUIP didn’t try to stop him, it was compromised by the alcohol Jeremy had already had that night. He just… Didn’t go back.

When his phone rang for the first time, Jeremy ignored it.

_Why bother picking up, he probably already hates me._

Jeremy let his phone go to voicemail the second time, too, but he was starting to get a little worried. He noticed the voicemail Michael had left.

_26 seconds long, AND he’s calling back? I guess I should listen to it…_

He found a quiet room and listened to the voicemail. Silent, all the way to the end. Wait… He listened to it again, focusing on his friend’s breathing. Low, fast, and shallow.

_He’s having a panic attack, shit, I need to get to him, now._

He tried calling back, but it went straight to voicemail.

_He must still be leaving a message on mine, the line is busy, shit shit fuck. Where could he be..? Oh, god, the bathroom!_

He ran down the hall, pushing aside Rich, who was yelling something about Mountain Dew Red, and nearly tripping over a couple that was making out. He knocked on the door.

“Michael? Are you still in here?”

When he didn’t get a response, he practically broke the door down, and Michael was--

Jeremy stopped, he was in front of Michael’s house again. He had walked in a giant circle. He turned and went home, he needed to sleep, the funeral was in the morning.

Of course, he couldn’t actually sleep. He tossed and turned for hours in his bed until he looked at the clock on his table. 3:24 am.

_I can’t do this…_

Jeremy got up and left his room, and pulled on Michael’s hoodie as he walked to the bathroom. He slammed the door shut behind him, and stared at his reflection in the mirror.

_Terrible._

_Stupid._

_Michael is dead because of you._

_Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._

He opened the cupboard and grabbed a bottle of pills. He didn’t look at the label, but he opened it and downed the entire bottle.

The room started to spin and Jeremy gripped the sink as he felt his breathing slow.

_So, this is what dying feels like…_

He opened the door and stumbled back to his room. He picked up a pencil.

_Really should’ve done this first…_

The room was going dark, he had to do this fast before it was too late.

“Dad-

I’m so sorry, I can’t do it anymore… I just can’t live without Michael.

I’m sorry.

-Jeremy”

His handwriting was extremely messy, but he managed to write the “y” before falling backwards, hitting his head on the floor with a thump. Jeremy heard his dad’s door open, and he remembered groggily that he didn’t shut his bedroom door.

“Jeremy?!” He saw his father pull out his phone and start to dial before everything went black.

* * *

* * *

* * *

Jeremy woke up in a hospital room, the light from the window hitting his eyes. It stung, he held one hand up to shield his face. When the room came into focus he noticed his dad, who was asleep in a chair.

_He must have stayed with me, aw… Wait, why am I here? What happened…?_

Jeremy suddenly remembered the night before.

_...Oh, yeah…_

“D-dad?”

Mr. Heere stayed asleep, so he spoke louder.

“Dad?”

Jeremy’s dad woke up with a start and looked at his son.

“Jeremy! You’re okay, you’re okay, please don’t do that again, please!” He moved to the bed quickly and hugged Jeremy tightly.

“I’m sorry, dad… I... I won’t do that again… I’m sorry...”

Player 2: Continue ==>


End file.
